Therapy

Right now I'm kind of obsessed with risotto. It seems like whenever I find it on a menu, I order it. And whenever I have the time (key word here: time), I make it. Although risotto is a time-consuming and high-maintenance dish, I find it very therapeutic to make, especially after a long hard day of drilling the present perfect progressive into students who could care less. It really is healing to me, though, kind of like sitting down and playing the piano for a few hours was when I was a kid, much to the annoyance of my three siblings. (If it makes any difference, guys, I haven't played the Spinning Song for 15 years!) I like to pour myself a tall glass of pomegranate juice, flip on a little Iron Chef America, and stand next to the warm stove, stirring and dreaming of places like Paris and Transylvania. (Yes, Transylvania is romantic. Especially when it snows.)

I've made this recipe now several times for a couple friends and for family. Every time, it's been a hit, especially if I serve it in those cute little lemon "cups." If you're new to the world of risotto, this is a good one to start with. Like I said earlier, it does take time, so don't make it if you've got to be somewhere in an hour. You've got to treat this dish like a baby, tenderly and lovingly feeding it with broth when it sucks up all the liquid you put in just a few minutes ago and stirring it constantly. You do this for anywhere from 20 minutes to a half-hour. Maybe even a little bit more. No matter how long it takes you to make, though, I assure you, you'll love it. You'll be back for seconds and you'll be dreaming of it for the next several days, longing for its creamy, comforting texture and its balanced cheesy and lemony flavor. The lemon delightfully brightens the heaviness of the Parmigiano and the ricotta. I think you'll become obsessed, too.

Lemon Parmesan Risotto

Adapted from a recipe by Giada De Laurentiis

Remember, this recipe takes time. But it is so worth it. You don't have to prepare the little lemon cups for it, although they're a great idea for a dinner party. This risotto pairs nicely with some good stuffed peppers and zucchini. Giada has a great recipe here. Also, remember to use low-sodium chicken broth so you can control the amount of salt in this dish. You can use regular broth if you don't have low-sodium, but do be careful with the salt at the end. Taste, taste, taste before adding more.

2 1/2 cups low-sodium chicken broth

2 tablespoons butter, plus 1 tablespoon

1 large shallot, diced

1 cup Arborio rice (you must use this kind of rice)

2 tablespoons grated Parmigiano-Reggiano, plus 2 tablespoons

2 tablespoons ricotta cheese

1/2 a lemon, zested and juiced

3/4 teaspoon kosher salt

3/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

6 lemons, for serving

In a medium saucepan, bring broth and 1 cup water to a simmer. Cover the broth and keep hot over low heat.

In a medium, heavy saucepan, melt 2 tablespoons of the butter over medium heat. Add the shallot and saute until tender but not brown, about 3 minutes. Add the rice and stir to coat with the butter. Add 1/2 cup of the simmering broth and stir until almost completely absorbed, about 2 minutes. Continue cooking the rice, adding the broth 1/2 cup at a time, stirring constantly and allowing each addition of the broth to absorb before adding the next, until the rice is tender but still firm to the bite and the mixture is creamy (tasting is the best way to judge this), about 20-30 minutes. Remove from the heat. Stir in the remaining tablespoon of butter, 2 tablespoons of Parmigiano, ricotta cheese, the lemon zest and juice, and the salt and pepper.

To serve, cut 1/4-inch off the bottom of each lemon so they stand on their own. Take 1-inch off the stem end. Using a grapefruit spoon or something similar, scoop out the flesh of the lemon and discard (unless you want to use the juice for something). Fill each lemon with risotto. Sprinkle the tops with the remaining Parmigiano. Serve immediately.

Serves 6.

For picky eaters

Mom wasn't an experimental cook when we were younger; she couldn't have been--we were too picky. And so was my dad. (He still is.) One simple meal Mom made on a lazy (or busy) Saturday afternoon that appealed to and satisfied all of us was cheese crisp. In Arizona, these are basically open-faced quesadillas (read more about them here), although Mom would usually ask whether we wanted ours folded in half or flat; they were cheese crisps to us either way. And we loved them. When I was little, I liked the folded kind because the cheese and the tortilla were soft and it seemed like the "hot sauce," or salsa, clung to them a little better.

Now, I prefer my cheese crisps open-faced on whole wheat or multi-grain tortillas, with not too much cheese, barely golden brown on the bottom with crispy bits of cheese around the edges and topped with avocados and tomatoes. Kind of like Mom made.

Arizona Cheese Crisps

1/2 tablespoon butter

4 small multi-grain or whole wheat tortillas

1/2 to 3/4 cup shredded Mexican-style cheese (the one I prefer contains cheddar, asadero, queso quesadilla, and monterey jack)

1 avocado, sliced

2 tomatoes, sliced or diced

salt

Melt the butter in a medium non-stick pan over medium heat. When the butter is melted, place one tortilla on the pan and immediately top with a thin layer of cheese, covering the tortilla all the way to the edges. Cook until the bottom is golden brown and the cheese is just melted and crispy at the edges. Remove from the pan and set aside on a plate. Repeat with the remaining three tortillas. If the tortillas start browning too fast, take the pan off the heat, wipe the butter off with a paper towel, and put the pan back on the heat with another pat of butter. When melted, add another tortilla and cheese on top.

When all the tortillas are cheesed and crisped, top with sliced avocado and tomatoes. Add a pinch of salt to bring out the flavor of the avocados and cut into wedges, if desired. I like to pick the whole thing up and eat it bite by bite myself.

Serves 2-4.

Meant to be

Sometimes the best comfort foods are combinations we've never tried before. Go figure. Take this combination, for example: sweet pears, nutty cheese, and spicy arugula between two slices of ciabatta. These are ingredients meant to be together, more so than I originally thought.

My friend Lark helped me make them last week, and we found ourselves stuffing the last bits of leftover pear slices and nutty, delicious cheese into our mouths when our sandwiches had disappeared into thin air.

Simple, sweet, and savory, too. If you're in the mood for something simple and homey, but also new and exciting, try these panini. I think you'll like them.

Pear Panini

Adapted from a recipe by Giada De Laurentiis

If you have a panini machine, ignore the stuff about cooking these on a pan and using an extra one to press the sandwich. Just use your machine instead.

8 slices ciabatta or country bread

1/4 cup olive oil

8 ounces sliced Taleggio cheese, brie, or nutty, melty cheese (I tried an Italian cheese I'd never heard of before and can't figure out the name of it at the moment, but I'll keep doing my research and let you know.)

2 large pears (I used "Best Ever" pears--perfect!), cored and cut into 1/4-inch wedges

2 tablespoons Agave nectar or honey

Pinch salt

Pinch freshly ground black pepper

3 ounces arugula or spinach

Preheat a non-stick skillet to medium. Brush the bread on both sides with olive oil and place the bottom half of the bread (only the inside part that will touch the cheese) on the skillet until toasty and golden. Continue with the inside of the top slices of the bread.

While the top slices are toasting, begin forming the sandwiches. Divide the cheese among the warm bread so it can start melting. Cover the cheese with pear slices. Drizzle the pears with the Agave nectar or honey. Sprinkle with salt and pepper. Top with a handful of arugula. Place the toasted top half of the bread over the arugula and return the completed sandwiches (2-4 at a time) to the skillet. Place a smaller skillet on top of the panini and place a few heavy cans of food into the top skillet to press the sandwiches for 1-2 minutes. Flip the sandwiches over and do the same for the other side. Remove from the skillet. Cut the sandwiches in half and serve immediately.

Serves 4.

A first time for everything

The first time I traveled overseas, I was so excited and nervous at the same time that I made myself air-sick. I can't describe exactly what I felt as the crowded two-aisled airbus started its descent over a new land. I think it was a mixture of fear of the unknown and the rush of doing something I'd never done before but always wanted to. This was similar to what I felt when I made creme brulee for the first time. Yes, really.

This is how I feel about my culinary concoctions. The combining and mixing of ingredients--simple and plain though they are of themselves--to create something as delightful and sweet and sophisticated as a creme brulee gives me a satisfaction I can't get anywhere else. Except for maybe on a trip across the sea.

Although the brulee is probably one of the most basic of desserts and one of the first culinary students learn, it's also classic, versatile, and finishes off just about any meal quite nicely. (And, you'll notice, I can finish it off quite nicely, too.) Its mellow vanilla flavor and light, creamy texture make the perfect companions for its carmelized sugary top, which somehow reminds me of marshmallows lightly toasted over a campfire. Even though it makes me as giddy and breathless as I get when I go to a far-off place, it still tastes kind of like...

Home.

Creme Brulee

Adapted from Alton Brown's recipe from Good Eats

Creme brulee is relatively simple to make, although you have to be careful about a few things. First, don't add the warm cream all at once to the egg yolks. You may end up with scrambled brulee. Also, remember to only add the yolks (the yellow part) to the mixture. The best way to separate the yolk from the white is to crack the egg, keeping the yolk in one half of the shell, and then transfer it to the other half of the shell while holding it over a bowl and allowing the white to spill out.

1 quart heavy cream

1 or 2 vanilla beans, split and scraped

1 cup granulated sugar, divided

6 large egg yolks

2 quarts hot water

Preheat the oven to 325 degrees F.

Place the cream, vanilla bean(s), and the pulp into a medium saucepan set over medium-high heat and bring to a boil. Remove from the heat, cover, and allow to sit for at least 15 minutes. Remove the vanilla bean(s).

In a medium bowl, whisk together 1/2 cup sugar and the egg yolks until well blended and it just starts to lighten in color. Add the cream a little at a time, stirring continually. Pour the liquid into 6 (7 to 8-ounce) ramekins. Place the ramekins into a large cake pan or roasting pan. Pour enough hot water into the pan to come halfway up the sides of the ramekins. Bake just until the creme is set but still trembling in the center, approximately 40 to 45 minutes. Remove the ramekins from the pan and refrigerate for at least 2 hours and up to 3 days.

Remove the creme from the refrigerator for at least 30 minutes prior to browning the sugar on top. Divide the remaining 1/2 cup sugar equally among the 6 dishes and spread evenly on top. Using a torch, melt the sugar and form a crispy top. Or, preheat the broiler, set the ramekins on a baking dish, and let the sugar carmelize, about 1 to 2 minutes. Allow the creme brulee to sit for at least 5 minutes before serving or place in the refrigerator for a couple minutes. Top with fresh berries and/or fruit.

Serves 6.